A/N: As promised, here is the fast update :)

"Ugh fuck..." Tony groans and rolls over on the fl oor of his workshop, head pounding and stomach growling for food. The thing he hates most about getting drunk - and the only thing - is the hangovers which haunt him the next day. Tony can handle a lot of alcohol since his body got used to it. During his MIT days he used to party like no tomorrow, drinking like his life depended on it, so his body got used to the large intake of alcoholic substances and just dealt with it. Like it did with all the other shit Tony did to it. Yet last night he must have really outdone himself; his head was still buzzing as well as feeling like it's about to split in two.

Slowly and very laboriously Tony stumbles to the kitchen, heading straight for the coffee maker. Coffee has been his best friend ever since he went to MIT, and it's probably his only friend which never has - and never will - abandon him.

After making himself a cup Tony sits at the table, sipping on his coffee. Somehow he can't help but feel like there's something he's forgetting. The penthouse seems too quiet, though it's always like this. Even when Pepper still lived here, it was never loud or eventful - except for the few times when Tony threw parties. Yet now it almost seems eerie and simply too empty for one person.

"JARVIS, turn on some music. Loud. It's too fucking quiet and creepy here."

"Sir, may I suggest inviting our guest to breakfast? He has inquired your whereabouts an hour ago."

"Oh shit, Loki. I knew there was something I was forgetting. Yeah call him here. But still turn on the music. And JARVIS, he's not 'our guest'."

"Yes sir."

A few minutes later Loki is sitting in his usual spot at the table, eating cereal with Tony sipping his coffee and unhappily mumbling under his breath.

Maybe I should hire a babysitter for him. Fuck, he'll probably kill them or something.

"Ahem. Well I'll be spending my day in my workshop. And you, you're going to be cleaning this floor. Literally. DUM-E is completely useless, but now that you're living here, well it's like I got my personal maid." The signature Tony Stark grin was spread on the inventor's face as he looked at the god.

Loki makes no move to acknowledge Tony's presence or command. After a minute of gloating, Tony walks over to the cupboards and grabs a few bottles of scotch and rum to take with him down to his workshop.

"Everything you'll need is in the living room. Ciao!" The elevator doors close leaving Loki sitting at the table staring at his half empty bowl of cereal.

Losing all appetite, the god gets up and wanders over to the living room. A bright red bucket indeed stands in the middle of the living room, with a large piece of cloth hanging from the side of it.

Not even a broom...just like in Asgard.

Loki stands in front of the bucket, scowling at it and wishing he could make it disappear. Washing the floors is one thing, but having to crawl around on the floor like a true slave...well that was too much for the god to handle.

Loki's pride and dignity have been damaged enough as it is, he will not be subsiding to the slave level. Even if that is what he is, Loki refuses to accept it. Plus, Tony didn't seem to know exactly how slaves are supposed to behave, so that left him with some leeway for his actions. And even though Tony acted violently the last time Loki refused to do the task at hand, the god is willing to face those consequences again. Anything is better than crawling around on the floor like some sort of animal.

Loki turns away from the bucket and walks in the direction of his room. Tony's house isn't decorated with too many things, but there is an occasional painting on the wall, or sculpture in a corner. As much as Loki hates to admit it, these things pique his interest.

When growing up, Loki spent a lot of time walking up and down the art galleries in the Asgardian palace. He was always attracted to beautiful artwork, be it paintings or poetry or music. But the paintings in Asgard were mostly of battles and warriors and triumphant moments. So not relating to the God of mischief in any way.

There would always be the occasional painting of something other than a battle - a landscape or town. Loki tended to enjoy those more, they were calm and peaceful and simply...beautiful. But the paintings and sculptures in Midgard were very much different from the Asgardian ones. Or at least the ones lining the walls of Stark Tower's halls.

They seem too simple, merely lines of different colours placed on the canvas. Or squares of different colours. The ideas baffle Loki, but in such a way which makes him want to know more. Though looking simple, there is still something very unique and intriguing about them.

Loki wanders the halls of the penthouse for hours, finding a new detail in every art display each time around. Art and beauty are the only things the god could never become bored of. Just like magic, it belonged with him.

Occasionally Loki would pass the bucket patiently waiting for him in the middle of the room. The god stopped in front of it a few times, glaring daggers at it. But since the bucket never disappears nomatter how long or how much Loki glares at it, he simply turns around and continues his exploration.

As evening draws near there's no sign of Tony. Sitting on the windowsill Loki wonders if the inventor is once again passed out in his workshop. That would mean the god will have no dinner, once again.

Loki doesn't fret. He doesn't actually need food to survive, like mortals do. Food is simply a luxury every Asgardian allows himself, but by no means is it a necessity. Of course after a long while the effects of hunger will start to show, but that can take weeks. Months, even, if the body is strong and healthy. So one night without dinner is just one night without a luxury.

That's not to say that Asgardians didn't have an appetite though. Take Thor for example. He can eat and eat and still want more. The point is, even though gods don't need to eat, they still have an appetite. Or they could, if they wanted to eat something.

The chime of the elevator doors radiates through the room and Loki turns his head in its direction. The sight that greets him is definitely not a pleasant one.

Tony stumbles out of the elevator, barely able to keep his balance. Walking – or more like stumbling – to the living room Tony trips over his feet at least 5 times, barely missing the coffee table. Clearly he's had too much to drink and is completely out of it and that can't mean anything remotely good for Loki. If last time was anything to go by.

Quietly Loki gets up and walks towards the bucket still waiting for him in the middle of the living room, but stops when he notices Tony approaching. One half of Loki is beginning to regret the decision of ignoring Tony, but another assures his it was the right - and only - thing to do.

The god waits in anticipation for...well he doesn't know for what, but certainly hopes not another beating. Tony is too wasted to stand properly, so surely his brain couldn't comprehend and register the fact that Loki had failed to complete his duties.

Tony stops in front of the bucket, eyeing it curiously as if trying to figure out what it's doing in the middle of his living room. Then his eyes travel up to the god and a wide grin spreads on his face, meaning only one thing: trouble. Wobbling around the bucket, Tony closes the distance between himself and the god.

"Well well, aren't we feeling rebellious again." Tony's grin changes into a deathly scowl, Loki practically hearing the inventor's jaws breaking.

The god curses himself for his stupid action of ignorance as Tony's fist connects with his face.

A/N: I've been planning further chapters, and writing others, and then editing this one. Each one has so much happening, and I just can't wait to post it all up! So excited to be working on every single part of this story.

Feel free to leave a review telling me what you think of the story/characters or comment on the writing style :) Feedback is always appreciated and would help me give you guys what you want. Fanservice! :D